


Alpha and Omega

by AnnaNocturnal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaNocturnal/pseuds/AnnaNocturnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: On a fairly routine hunt, a strange girl stumbles out in front of the Impala. When Cas recognizes her and her sister for what they really are, the Winchesters and company are hurtled once more into a battle for their lives, and the lives of billions of unsuspecting humans. [not a/b/o. story-centric.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame a lifetime of sitting through Catholic funeral services for this one.
> 
> Of course I do not own Supernatural. At all. I just like to create a cheap imitation of sorts.

Ego sum Alpha et Omega principium et finis dicit Dominus Deus qui est et qui erat et qui venturus est Omnipotens.

I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.

X

Shelby Adkins was at a complete loss. For the last eight years, she had been the mother of two perfectly healthy, beautiful, twin girls. Charlotte and Jennifer Adkins were astoundingly normal. Their infancy and early childhood had been astoundingly normal. They were just a normal little family in a normal little house in a normal little suburban town in Vermont.

Well, normal until that night, a few months ago, when the Sound hit. That was the only way Shelby had been able to describe it. There had been a piercing noise, so loud it brought her to her knees, her hands clapped tight over her ears, her eyes screwed shut as the glass of the shower door and the mirror in her bathroom shattered, spraying her with glass.

The Sound had ended as quickly as it began, leaving her with only a dull ringing deep in her ears that she knew to be just a phantom of the original noise. She picked herself up shakily and gingerly stepped across the glass-dusted tile, thankful that she had slipped on her slippers when she had sleepily left her bed for the bathroom.

She felt something wet trickle down her face to meet her top lip, and she brought her finger to it gently. She pulled her finger away to see blood. She had a nose bleed. Given the state of the mirror, she supposed she should just be glad her skull was still intact.

Shelby was in shock. She didn't know what to think. What were you supposed to think when a Sound hit your home, shattering everything, nearly killing you?

It hit her like a ton of bricks. Charlotte and Jennifer.

Abandoning her careful movements, Shelby tore through the upper floor of the house, noting with every glance around her that each and every window in the house appeared to be blown out. The pictures on the walls were distorted behind spiderwebbed glass. The saltwater fishtank in the hall had disentigrated entirely, flooding the hardwood floor. The fish, poor bastards, hadn't flopped about in a desperate bid to fill their gills, but it was little comfort given the states of their bodies. Or, what was left of them.

All of this was pulled into Shelby's mind and then pushed back out as she reached the twin's bedroom door. She grabbed the knob, twisting and pushing, stumbling into the room.

She came to a sudden stop, hardly believing her eyes.

Everything in the room was normal. The wide window between the two beds was still intact, open to let a gentle breeze in. Shelby's eyes roamed to Charlotte's collection of snowglobes, then to Jennifer's porcelain dolls. None showed any sign of the damage that the rest of the house had suffered.

How had the Sound not touched this room? How was everything so unnervingly normal?

Well…almost everything.

Charlotte and Jennifer were sitting up in their beds, backs rigid, expressions blank, eyes glassy.

Shelby hurried over to them, sitting on the edge of Charlotte's bed, one arm wrapped protectively around her as she held her other hand out, beckoning Jennifer to her. "Are you okay? Did that sound wake you up?"

Jennifer didn't look at her. She turned her head slowly to Charlotte and realized that she hadn't reacted to her mother's touch or voice, either.

Shelby swallowed hard. "Girls?"

Was this a dream? Was she dreaming?

She jumped when she felt Charlotte's hand on her cheek. She looked down at her daughter, whose eyes had lost that glassy quality, focusing sharply on her. Her expression was soft, almost pitying, and Shelby opened her mouth to speak—

The next moment she jerked awake in her own bed. Disoriented, her wild gaze raked the room. The windows were intact, and through the ajar bathroom door, she could see no glass on the tile. The pictures on the walls were likewise undamaged.

She got to her feet, hurrying to the hall, and stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

The fish tank stood, just where it always did, the filter bubbling diligently, the brightly-colored fish drifting lazily through the water, occasionally bobbing up to pull a piece of food from the surface.

Had she been dreaming?

She must have been. She had dreamed the Sound, and the destruction, and the twin's strange behavior. She was sure of it. It had to be.

But as much as she tried to reassure herself, one thing was for certain: over the following months, Charlotte and Jennifer refused to utter a single word.

X

The girl who used to be Charlotte Adkins opened her bedroom window quietly, raising the pane of glass completely. Or…her body used to be Charlotte Adkins.

It didn't matter. The body standing beside her was Jennifer Adkins. The being beside her was her sister, as well. She didn't know their names, what they were called these days. They had gone by many names, and it had been millennia since they had last walked this earth.

They had arrived on orders, with no plan in place that they had been informed of. But now they could sense one. And they knew they needed to find it. They could feel it, as surely as if they had been instructed to do it.

Castiel, she thought. Her sister nodded.

One after the other, they stepped through the window and dropped gracefully to the grass below. They joined hands as they walked into the night.

X

"Why's it always gotta be witches?" Dean groaned, his hands clutching the steering wheel of the Impala tightly. He hated witches. Sure, most of what they hunted was a monumental pain in the ass, and they all had to be taken care of, but the witches were the worst. And come on, Dean had gone up against gods. So that was saying something.

Castiel wrinkled his brow in confusion. "It is not always witches, Dean. Have you forgotten the demons and ghosts and vampires and—"

Sam shook his head, glancing pointedly at Castiel. The angel shook his head. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but he had learned to take the cues that he had missed something a little better over time.

"All I'm saying is I'd take a pissed off ghost over a witch any day of the—"

"Dean!" Sam cut off his complaining, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

Dean slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel hard, causing the Impala to drift with the loud squeal of tires and the acrid smell of burning rubber, coming to a halt just inches from the girl who had run into the road.

It took the hunters a second to react, but Castiel was already out of the car, staring down at the girl, who smiled gently back up at him. She had dark hair, almost black, that reached down to her waist in loose curls, and bright blue eyes.

"Am I crazy, or does that kid look like…" Dean trailed off. It wasn't possible. Was it?

"Cas? Yeah, she kind of does." Sam looked just as freaked out as Dean felt as he fumbled with his seatbelt, hurrying to get out of the car.

The hunters approached Cas and the girl warily. She was still smiling up at the angel, but his face was set in its usual stoic mask, giving nothing away.

After a tense minute he spoke. "Alpha. I do not think it has changed." He waited a moment, his eyes crinkling at the corners like he was thinking hard. "Omega. Where is she?"

There was the sharp snap of a twig from the side of the road. The trio whirled around, and for a moment Sam and Dean thought that the girl had ghosted out on them and reappeared on the shoulder. But this girl's hair was cut slightly shorter, and her sweater was black while the other's was white. Call it a hunch, but they didn't think ghosts were big on altering appearances.

"Cas, who the hell are they?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice steady. The way the second girl was looking at him was unnerving, her eyes blank and emotionless as she stepped closer to them.

The look of intense concentration was once more pulling at Cas' features. "They are Alpha and Omega. They are lesser known celestial beings."

"Angels?" Dean sounded irritated. Angels showing up rarely ended well for them, after all.

"No. They are not warriors. They are messengers. Collectively they are also known as the Voice of God. Alpha can carry any news. But Omega…" Cas' expression turned to one of regret, as though he didn't want to continue. "Omega is the harbinger of Armageddon."


	2. A Hundred Righteous Men

"They should order something." Dean nodded at the twins, who were paying no attention to their children's menus, or the crayons that came with them.

Cas looked surprised. "They do not require food, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but if they don't order something, the waitress is going to think it's weird that you aren't feeding your kids."

"They are not my children. They are more like aunts."

"It doesn't matter, they look exactly like you!"

"The resemblance in our vessels is merely coincidental."

Sam looked up from his computer, where he was skimming through news articles, trying to find what each of the witch's victims had in common. "Cas, just tell them to order something, please?"

"They cannot speak." Cas felt that this should be obvious, but the looks that Sam and Dean gave him suggested otherwise.

"The fricking Voice of God can't speak?" Dean demanded.

"Not unless my father has something to say." Cas' eyes were downcast. "He's been pretty quiet for a while, as you know."

"But you can hear them." Sam raised his eyebrows at Cas. "You were talking to Alpha when she first appeared."

"I can hear their grace. Not their actual voices."

Dean rubbed his temples, trying to stay calm. Sometimes talking to the angel was frustrating beyond belief. "Then find out what they want and order for them."

Cas looked confused. "They do not want anything. They do not require food."

Dean let out a frustrated growl. Here they were, at the beginning again. "Then _pretend_ , Cas."

"I do not—"

"Are you ready to order?" Their waitress had finally made her way over, a pen and order pad in hand, looking at them expectantly.

Dean and Sam placed their orders and then looked expectantly at Cas.

"I am not hungry. But I suppose these two will have the…" He trailed off, squinting at the kid's menu. "Chicken fingers." His eyes flickered up to Dean's. "Chickens do not have fingers."

Dean let out a forced laugh. "Yeah, that's a good one." He looked at the waitress. "That'll be all, sweetheart. Thanks."

The waitress blushed and hurried back to the counter.

"Got it." Sam looked up from his laptop once more. "All of the victims had kids between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, and all of them are enrolled at St. Johnsbury Academy, about twenty miles away."

"Fancy private school kids dabbling in black magic?" Dean scoffed. "That's sure to end well."

"There's more. St. Johnsbury is a boarding school. When I dug deeper, I linked up about eight other bizarre deaths across the country with students at the school. All parents." Sam turned the laptop to show Dean the articles.

"So these brats get shipped off to some boarding school, resent the parents for it, and decide to get some revenge." Dean shook his head. "So I guess we're ganking kids now."

Sam shook his head. "There's gotta be some other way to stop it."

"What? Put them in detention? They're killing people, Sam, not texting in class."

Sam sighed. "Fine. But how are we even going to get in? There's no reason for the FBI or CDC to be there. None of the victims were actually at the school when they died."

Dean thought about it for a moment. "I may have an idea."

X

"Pest control?" The blonde secretary in the main office looked skeptical. "We don't have a pest problem."

"And we're working hard to keep it that way." Dean gave her a winning smile. This was going to be a tougher bluff than most. It wasn't like they made exterminator badges, after all.

"I don't know… I would feel more comfortable if you'd wait for Principal Jackson to get back from lunch." The secretary bit her lip.

Sam leaned towards her, resting his arms on the counter. "Do you know how quickly cockroaches multiply, ma'am? We should really get started as quickly as possible, or soon this place will be overrun with the crawly, nasty things."

The secretary looked a little sick at that thought, and nodded briefly. The hunters took this as their cue and left the office before she could change her mind.

Two hours, fifty dorm rooms, and countless posters of boy bands that made Dean fear for the music tastes of the next generation later, they had found nothing. No alters, no books, no hex bags.

"There's this, though." Sam held out a stack of yellow papers to Dean. "Disciplinary forms. Every one of the kids whose parents died had multiples of these. Every single one from the same teacher, a Carl Branson."

"So?" Dean flipped through the forms. "Every school has a hardass teacher."

"Yeah, but most of the offenses are pretty vague. Insubordination, back talk, lack of preparation for class. It almost seems like this teacher had an axe to grind."

"So you think this teacher was out to get them?" Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Sam shrugged. "It happens." He took the forms back. "So what if this he's trying to punish these kids for something? And when this wasn't doing the job…"

"He killed their parents? I don't know, man. Seems like a bit of a stretch."

"Worth checking out, though." Sam led the way through the courtyard that separated the dorms from the main school. "We don't really have any other leads."

They found Branson's office on the second floor, empty and locked for the evening. Sam made quick work of the lock and the two of them stepped in, peering around in the dim light filtering through the blinds. The office was simple, with a large desk strewn with papers and pens, a computer, and two high-backed chairs facing it. Both sides of the room were lined with bookshelves.

They systematically searched the office until Sam got to the desk. "Dean," he said, tearing his brother's attention away from the bookshelf he was searching.

Dean crossed the room to stand beside Sam, peering into the open desk drawer. "Yeah, that'll do it."

Everything a witch would need to construct an altar was stored neatly in the drawer. Candles, herbs, a knife, and pictures of couples, most of them in their forties.

Something tickled the back of Sam's mind. "The pictures. There were empty frames in a few of the rooms."

"Good job, putting all of this together."

The brothers jumped, spinning to see a man dressed in a pair of slacks, a button down, and a blazer standing beside them. His lips were twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes narrowed behind his rimless glasses.

"Carl Branson, am I right?" Dean asked, his hand going slowly to his waistband, where he had tucked his Colt. Before he could reach it, however, he was tossed back into the wall.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you." The teacher's eyes flashed dangerously.

Sam steeled himself for a fight, trying to decide between subtlety in going for his gun and just tossing caution to the wind and trying to get a shot off before he got flung himself. Before he could move, however, Branson's eyes rolled back in his head and blood trickled from his mouth. Sam looked down, shocked, and saw a small hand, caked in blood and gore, protruding from the man's stomach.

Branson fell, landing with a nasty thud on the linoleum floor, his blood quickly pooling around him, and that's when Sam saw, behind him, Alpha, staring with mild interest at her still-outstretched hand.

X

"What the hell is going on with these kids, Cas?" Dean demanded, slamming his hand down on the table in the motel they had gotten for the night.

"I told you, they are messengers of—"

"Well, they haven't given us any damn messages yet, and the chattier one just Aliened a witch!"

"I imagine she was trying to help you." Cas looked infuriatingly unperturbed. "She must like you."

Dean gaped at the angel as Sam dissolved into laughter. It was a moment before he could think of anything to say. "Great. The freaking Voice of God likes me. So why is she trying to restart the end of the damned planet I live on?"

"Omega is the harbinger of Armageddon, not Alpha. And they haven't said anything," Sam answered in what he clearly thought was a helpful tone. "Maybe that's not what they're here for."

"Cas said that Alpha can carry any message, but Omega is the postman of doom, right?" Dean looked at Cas for confirmation.

The angel gave it some thought. "Those are their roles, yes."

"So Omega wouldn't just be here on a milk run, then. If it was something routine, or as routine as it gets when God decides to finally open his piehole, then Omega wouldn't be here, would she?" Dean pressed.

"They always appear together. They share a grace. They need matched vessels." Cas caught the exasperated look on the hunters' faces and continued. "That is why twins run in families. My guess would be that these girls were the most recent in a long line of twin births in their family."

"Great." Dean stood up, crossing his arms and pacing across the room and back. "So what you're telling me, is that we have no clue what's going on until one of them decides to open their mouths and drop a big old Armageddon bomb on us?"

"Unless it's Alpha who speaks up. Maybe God's just wanting to say sorry for the whole not answering the phone thing during the apocalypse." Sam was clearly joking, but Dean wished there was even a remote possibility that was the case.

"I do not think that is likely," Cas said.

"Yeah, we know." Sam sat back in his chair, looking defeated.

Dean stopped in front of the twins, where they were sitting, emotionless, on one of the beds. The wheels in his mind were turning. "So…if their message could set off the apocalypse again, what happens if they can't deliver the message?"

"Killing them does not stop it from happening, any more than silencing a train's whistle stops the train from coming."

"You wanna just tell us what you know about them?" Sam asked, shutting his computer. "The lore doesn't mention them at all. Just that God called himself 'Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending'…"

"'Which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty'." Cas nodded. "It is how they got their name. But I do not know much about them. They have not walked the earth in millennia. The last time was in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. I believe your modern translation simply says that my father Himself visited Abraham, and that Abraham struck a bargain with him to save the cities if even ten righteous men could be found within. But it was Alpha and Omega, speaking for Him."

"But that was only two cities. I thought Omega foretold the apocalypse?" Sam's brow was wrinkled in confusion.

Cas smiled softly. "The civilized world was much smaller then."

"Okay. So we wait, and see which one speaks." Sam shrugged.

Dean wanted to do something, anything other than sit and wait. But he had to admit that it seemed like their only option.

"Weren't Sodom and Gomorrah destroyed because of some gay orgy?" he asked. He was thinking of a joke he had heard in a bar, long before he met Cas and found out that the stories were real, if misrepresented.

"The cities were destroyed as a result of rampant depravity, but the final sin, the final crime that sealed their fate, was when they tried to rape two of my brothers."

"Well, here's hoping it was Michael, that dick." Dean sighed and sat down.

X

Dean was awoken in the middle of the night when someone sat down on the edge of his bed, resting their cool hand on his bare arm. He sat straight up, looking around wildly until, through the dark shadows of the room, he made out the form of Omega.

"I know you love them, Dean." Omega's voice was soft, pitying. "I know you love this world. I love them all, too. I created them. I brought them together from cosmic dust, and I gave them life, and love, and pain, and happiness—everything that makes your human experience the beautiful thing that it is. And when it is over, I bring them to me, and I carry them with me for the rest of time. I created all of it, and I love you all so much. But it is time, and this must come to pass. You will not be able to stop it again."

"But people will die. These humans that you love so much, they will suffer, and they will _die_." Dean was almost pleading, a fact that he was embarrassed to admit. But he was humbled, somehow. He was talking to God. "If you love them, how could you want that?"

Omega smiled sadly, reaching out to cradle Dean's face in her hands. "I do not expect you to understand. But this world must refresh. It must start over. It _must_ come to pass. Do not interfere, Dean." She leaned down and pressed her lips gently to his forehead. "I am sorry for the suffering that has befallen you."

A fat lot of good _sorry_ had ever done Dean. Besides, this was _God_. This was a being so powerful that it could snap its fingers and create worlds. If it really wanted to stop the suffering, it could.

Something Cas had said hit him like a ton of bricks. "Wait." He reached out, grabbing the girl's wrist as she moved to stand. "You would have spared those cities if ten righteous men were found."

Omega didn't speak for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. "I do not punish all for a few. But the world is much larger now, the souls of humans much more heavily soiled. You, Dean Winchester, are a righteous man. But there aren't nearly enough of you."

"I'll find twenty," Dean offered quickly. Hell, if he was considered righteous, surely there must be others.

"I agreed upon ten for Sodom and Gomorrah at a time when there were barely a million people on the planet. Your kind now numbers in the billions, scattered across all corners of the Earth." Omega's face betrayed no emotion. "I'm afraid twenty is not enough."

"What will it take?"

"Proportionately you would have to find me eighty thousand righteous men."

Dean's heart dropped. _Eighty thousand?_ He'd do better to go a few rounds in the cage with Michael and Lucifer himself.

"But I know this world, Dean, and I will be quite impressed if you can find a hundred righteous souls."

"If I can, will you call this off?"

Again, Omega didn't answer right away. Dean thought his heart was going to hammer right out of his chest. "Yes," she finally said. "But if you cannot, you will watch your world burn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, there are scholars who believe that the great sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was not homosexuality, but in fact bestiality, as the angels were of a different species. I considered having Cas make a joke to this effect, but it seemed quite out of place. Also, I didn't want to spark great religious debate.
> 
> So… Thoughts? I'm open to concrit and suggestions, and welcome any feedback short of flames. Please don't with the flames, okay? :)
> 
> See you next chapter, I hope!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to check out my story! See you next chapter!


End file.
